What's Wrong With Me

Reasons why I have wanted to die in the past:
-realizing I have to constantly live through inequalities for myself and others
-feeling stuck in a path in life
-what is the point of anything ever (current, but not suicidal)

Since my trip to the hospital a couple months ago, I've been doing lots of thinking. That's landed me in the world of having an existential crisis. My brain is imploding, tearing itself apart, and becoming a black hole as we speak. I don't know anything. I don't know if I actually exist, what the heck I am other than a weird combination of stardust, and I don't understand anything. I don't know the point of life, earth, the universe, or if there are other universes. Like I'm tiny. So very tiny. I don't know where we came from, if there's a god or how things started and where god came from if there is one. Where in the world did morality come from? So we don't kill off the human race? Being self aware of our eminent doom and existence is the worst thing ever. Is that why religions are created? A self correcting error so that we can deal with the anxiety of existing to further survive and not be stuck in our heads? I don't know. What the heck. There are so many religions. They all have really crazy ideas and stories. Every single one of them has a crazy concept and so does science. But they all have truth in them too which is even more frustrating. I am literally a combination of some particles (atoms, electrons, whatever your heart desires) that are in everything else. But somehow I'm aware that I am those particles and questioning the purpose while other particles are not even aware of themselves and may never be. They just are. If that isn't some crazy crap, I don't know what is. I am so confused. I wish I was a tree. How easy would that be. So during this existential crisis I've been having for about a month or more, I've discovered I have two definite goals that will never dissolve until I no longer exist:
1) Die at some point. I do NOT want to be immortal on this planet as me. Luckily, something tells me I'll achieve this goal. Maybe I'll figure out what comes next or maybe not. Ya know, the whole idea of the soul which I'm still debating.
2) Give my particles to the Earth to be recycled after I die. You know what's actually pretty neat? The stuff I'm made out of not only came from stardust, but it came from other things the stardust created. People, plants, animals. The things that died and became other things that then my mother had to somehow ingest to then form me. Like how crazy is that? I may be part tree or part squirrel. Sweet. So I should give mine back to become something else and eventually, hopefully, part of someone else.

So my goals might not sound fulfilling while I'm alive, but in a way they are. It's a form of hope I suppose. That may sound grim, but like I said I really don't know the point of this living thing we do. It's very confusing. In some aspects, I hope there's a god, but in other ways, I don't want one. The gods talked about scare me because sometimes they are too reflective of humans. Many are contradictory and may be easily deconstructed. Why would a perfect entity get angry? If it's perfect, would there not be an understanding within itself to not make it angry? You see? Humans get angry. Anger is a mixture of fear and pain. A perfect entity that is all powerful would not be fearful. Humans like justice. They want their purpose and others' to be justified and praised or punished. At this point, all I want in my life is to understand and to know I'm not worthless in the grand scheme of things. Whatever that scheme may be if there is one. Great. Square one. And at the same time I'm happy I am able to dig this far in me and yet obviously unsatisfied. Maybe everything ever is supposed to be a giant contradiction to equal itself out. Probably. I don't know. It's 1am. I'm not really sure what I'm saying at this point.